


Align My Heart, My Body, My Mind, to Face What I've Done

by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own



Series: Not-Quite-A-Warlock [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Immortal Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own
Summary: In which Magnus makes a deal with a devil in penance for perceived betrayals





	Align My Heart, My Body, My Mind, to Face What I've Done

  _Well you are my accuser, now look in my face,_  
_Your oppression reeks of your greed and disgrace._  
_So one man has and another has not,_  
_How can you love what it is you have got._  
  
_When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor?_  
_Liars and thieves you know not what is in store._  
_There will come a time I will look in your eye,_  
_You will pray to the God that you've always denied._  
~Dust Bowl Dance, Mumford  & Sons

* * *

It’s been literal centuries since Magnus last delved into the dark things, the things Asmodeus taught him back in his youth, the things that still scare even him. But every time he closes his eyes, he thinks of Magna, locked up in those little cages that he saw far, far too many of thirty years ago. He thinks of the Downworlders he was too late to save, and he imagines they’re Magna. He thinks of how many loved ones he lost then, and how many others turned away from him, let their hearts go cold from their loss, nothing he did could reach them, could save them, and he watched them wither away, and he imagines Alec becoming like that, too, from the loss of her, the loss of _their_ daughter.

So, he delves back into the darkness.

* * *

“Father.” He says aloud, over his cauldron, he doesn’t bother looking to see if his father answers his call, he knows he will.

“My son.” Comes a voice behind him, and Magnus doesn’t turn around.

 “I wish to make a deal.” Magnus says, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Oh?” Asmodeus asks, coming closer, looking at the assorted ingredients and spell books scattered on the table in front of Magnus, “And what deal would this be?”

“A Curse of Withering.” Magnus tells him, his jaw set.

“My, my, are you coming back to the darkness, my boy?” Asmodeus asks, but beneath the mocking tone, there’s something serious, something questioning.

“Do you know about Magna?”

“What about my darling?” Asmodeus asks, his eyes narrowing, his entire body gearing up for a fight.

“Do you know what the Circle did to her? What _Alec’s parents_ did to her?” Magnus spits out the words, suddenly feeling like the air is too thin, or too thick, he doesn’t know, it just feels like suddenly it’s too hard to breathe, to think.

“Oh.” Asmodeus whispers, all the fight seeming to flee out of him. “Yes, I know, I didn’t realize she told you. She hasn’t told _him.”_

“I know. I want to make a deal with you, you place a Curse of Withering on Robert Lightwood and I will give you a memory, or a sliver of my magic, or anything else that you want in payment.”

“Oh, very well, I will take from you the memory of your first successful spell.” Asmodeus tells him, smiling, Magnus gives a little laugh and roll his eyes. A Warlock’s first spell is always something ridiculous, like successfully conjuring a glass of water, no Greater Demon would ever seriously accept it as payment, unless the task given they would have gladly done for free.

“Fine, and you will place the Curse?”

“Yes, I imagine you don’t want it to be fatal?”

“No, that would destroy the purpose.”

“Very well, it will be done.” Asmodeus says, as he reaches forward, places his hand on Magnus’ forehead, the process is painless, but Magnus knows one of his memories is missing, perhaps never to be returned.

“Good hunting, Father.”

“Of course.” Asmodeus says, blowing away on an invisible wind, like he was never even there.

Magnus takes a very deep breath in, and goes to make himself something alcoholic, he’d like to be well and truly drunk when the fallout hits, not that the bliss will last when there is magic available.

* * *

“Did you have you father place a Curse of Withering on mine?” Alec exclaims, barely through the door, Magnus rolls on the floor to blink at him sluggishly.

“Wha’?” he mumbles, Alec just stares at him dumbly for all of five minutes, before using his magic to make Magnus sober. “What was that for?” Magnus yells, climbing to his feet.

“Did you have your father place a Curse of Withering on mine?” Alec asks again, his whole-body trembling.

“Yes.” He replies, stepping out of the way when Alec’s magic lashes out at him. “Are you going to ask me why, or are you going to follow the Clave example of attack first, ask questions if I’m still alive? I _thought_ you were better than them!” Magnus snaps at him, his glamour falling away as his own magic begins to ripple in the air around him, gearing up for a fight.

“Fuck.” Alec exclaims, stepping away from Magnus, taking deep breaths in, trying to reign his magic back in. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you. I swore a stupidly worded magical oath.” Magnus answers, glancing down at his hands, which are sparking with a chaotic red and black lightning at the mere _thought_ of breaking his vow to Magna. “If I had my way, your mother would be labouring under the same Curse.” Magnus snaps, turning away from Alec and walking out onto the balcony looking down over the city. “I never knew what they did in the Circle, I just assumed they were mindless followers like the rest of them, but I shouldn’t have, they’ve never been mindless. I can’t believe I let _her_ in my house. Went out of my way to make her feel _welcome_. I feel like I should march myself down to Edom and ask my brothers and sisters to flay me alive for my betrayal.” Magnus says, his words shaking with the depth of his emotions.

“What are you talking about? What did she do? What did my dad do?” Alec asks, stepping out onto the balcony, but keeping his distance.

“I can’t tell you.” Magnus replies, the words choked. “I wish I could, I really, really wish I could, but I can’t.” Magnus tells him, tears forming in his eyes. “I feel like I need to give penance. Feel like nothing I ever do will make up for making nice with her, and you can’t even understand why.”

“I don’t want to know, do I? Whatever this is? It won’t be good.” Alec questions, stumbling over the words.

“No, you don’t want to know, but eventually you are going to find out.”

“Who told you?”

“Guess.” Magnus tells him, knowing by how his magic sparks that he can’t even answer _that._ “You’re going to have to guess, and trust that you are right, because I can’t tell you, Alexander. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Okay. Would I-would I think your actions just, if I knew?” Alec asks instead, stepping forward to take Magnus’ hands in his own. “I mean, you made a deal with your father, it must have been… important?”

“When you learn the truth, I fear you will find my actions lacking, but my reasoning just.” Magnus answers, squeezing Alec’s hands. “But I won’t start a full-blown war with the Clave over something that I can’t even discuss with you, when I can’t even defend myself against your accusations, because you don’t know the reasons. So, the Curse, that’s the best I can do, for now.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll-I’ll go find out the truth.”

“Be gentle.”

“Always.” Alec answers, before giving Magnus puppy eyes, Magnus rolls his eyes.

“Why do you never create your own portals?” he asks, in exasperation, throwing his hand out, a portal forming.

“I really like this loft, it would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” Alec tells him in answer, before leaning down to give him a kiss on the lips and stepping through the portal.

“You did not just quote a meme at me.” Magnus tells the empty air. “You did fucking not.” He mutters, storming back into the living room. “Honestly.” He exclaims, sinking down onto his couch, he goes back to drinking, drinking away his guilt and his regrets.

* * *

_“Pay attention, Magnus, for what I am about to teach you is old magic, from before my fall. What I’m about to teach you is called the Curse of Withering, there are many variations, but only the true Curse is considered dark.”_

_“Dark?”_

_“Yes, only a Greater Demon can perform the true curse, and for that reason, it is dark. Under the curse, you’re doomed to watch your loved ones drift further and further away from you, until they can’t bear to be in the same room with you, until your very name is poison to them, and your very presence a pain in their heart. You’re doomed to destroy everything you touch, everything you craft with your hands, going down in ashes. It can be fatal, too, driving one to find any means to end their torment, or it can be crafted to specifically keep that from happening, so that only time, and the hands of others can take away the suffering. I teach you about this curse, Magnus, because one day you may have need of it.”_

_“I doubt that very much, father, but I have centuries to go yet before I sleep.”_

* * *

_Seal my heart and break my pride,_  
 _I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide._  
 _Align my heart, my body, my mind,_  
 _To face what I've done and do my time._  
  
_Well, yes sir, yes sir, yes, it was me,_  
 _I know what I've done, 'cause I know what I've seen._  
 _I went out back and I got my gun,_  
 _I said, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"._  
~Dust Bowl Dance, Mumford  & Sons


End file.
